For You
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Kitty Evans, a famous class act turned into a boring DJ, accepts a job offer from WKRP, but the lucrative contract might also be the end of her career as she knows it. First story in the series "Atlantic DJ".
1. Kitty Evans, at the Helm

**For You**

**Note and Disclaimer:**** Obviously, we all don't own ****WKRP in Cincinnati**** and the music that's been played on the show (even though it's not played on the Season 1 DVD, which kinda sucked). However, the character of Kitty Evans Johnson (and others not on the show) is mine, so don't use her without permission (or any others I've made up). Thank you!**

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Old-time music filled my ears, making my eyes droop down in sleepiness once more. I was tired enough as it was from my hectic life, so the music that I played for the rich and nose-in-the-air people was a bit too much for me, the former Kitty of the Atlantic Coasts. I could tell that this job was making me more and more sleepy as the days passed and my former day job became a dream. I needed something…well, I don't know, _different_…before I went home to madness, so this was just another day in Heaven's Harpland.

I mean, it was the same routine, the same day-to-day activities that were making my head spin with confusion and shame. Each and every day, as the DJ for the lucrative (and snobby) Boston station WUPS, I played this crappy, boring elevator music. So basically, every morning, from five AM to one PM, I played the morning show on the station. Each and every time, I fall asleep around ten o'clock, my snores always arousing the attention of my fellow female DJ, Gayle Simon.

Gayle, in the meantime, would slowly sneak into the booth while I was sleeping (and snoring, for sure catching the attention of the sales person, that little snitch Fiona Jay). She would gently shake my shoulder, waking me up in an instant, and give me a cup of her famous military brand coffee before she was caught in the booth with me. Hell, I mean, after all, she and I were supposed to be separated, seeing as how we caused too much trouble as it was at WUPS. And her breaking the new rule like that was kind enough for me.

I yawned, knowing that it had already been past that time when I saw Gayle and her God saving coffee. And this time, behind her was Fiona and her stack of folders in her arms, so the station manager, Danny Craig, was sure to be told of this. It won't be a happy scene in his office with the both of us probably getting fired, but I knew that it was perhaps time that I left Boston with my nephew and started anew someplace else anyway.

Besides, life had gotten pretty boring as it is and it was time for a change.

Yawning again, I looked up at the clock at the corner ticking the seconds away, knowing I had almost two and a half hours left until I was allowed to leave, although Fiona was sure to be bitchin' me out when I leave. She hated me leaving as early as I did (contracts were my savior, literally), so snide comments always followed in my wake, all the way to my car. Already, I was thinking about ending early today and remembering how I had a laundry list of things to do before I picked up my nephew from daycare. I didn't need Fiona to remind of how lucky I usually am, even with the great responsibility on my shoulders.

However, it was when _Sentimental Journey_ was still playing (and me wishing that I was actually _playing_ Journey) that there was a soft knock on my booth door. I looked at the door and then to the clock again, knowing that it wasn't time for Gayle to do the afternoon and evening show. Somebody was going to bother me while I worked.

_What the hell is going on here?_

The new program director of the month, Lyle Christy, popped his head into the booth and smiled at me, waving to ask permission to enter my domain before I fell asleep again. He knew that I hated the music format at this station, so he was usually making a crack at me about how the wild cat of both coasts ended up with a boring job. I mean, it had been a month since he had arrived (surviving longer than most program directors do here), but he and I were already the best of friends (like I was with Gayle). He was constantly trying to get me back into my former act and get my career back on the road…and put WUPS on the road to some rock n roll music.

Lyle, however, was in no joking mood when he entered the booth. "Boss wants you in his office pronto," he only said, crossing his arms in a stubborn stance.

"What does he want?" I only asked back as I swung my chair around to face him, keeping my eyes open just for him. Danny never usually ordered me to his office (except in cases where Gayle and I were fooling around), so it was unusual to see Lyle so clearly upset about me leaving my post and the crappy music.

"I was just the messenger. Danny doesn't tell me anything." Lyle almost pouted with that big lower lip of his, but I knew better to keep that huge quivering lug quiet.

"But, I thought that Danny only confines in Fiona about office business and his personal body, if his wife isn't coming around." I only had to say the name of our common enemy and the muscles tensed up immediately, my shot hitting the target dead-on.

"Fiona hasn't been privy to this information, Kitty. And it involves you."

"Me?" I played innocent too well.

"Yeah, the Boss wants you in his office to discuss moving you to Cincinnati, Ohio."

"Ohio? What in bloody hell is in Cincinnati, Ohio?"

Lyle only had to tell me to get my butt moving from this sleepy little station, but I couldn't tell if he was lying to cheer me up. "Only one of the best _rock_ stations in the country, Kitty. You're most likely heading there to be the DJ, my friend!"

Dreams of my career coming back up were soon doused in flames. Who the hell was I kidding? Me, Kitty Evans (AKA Catherine Johnson, but nobody needed to know that), back to being the Kitty of the Atlantic Coasts was stupid as hell. England kicked me out for being lewd and immoral after a loyal following made me famous. America loved me for a while and then pushed me to the quiet corners of the country after my last rock station fired me for saying "ass" on the air.

Jumping from radio station to radio station and supporting probably the only child I'll ever raise had been difficult, if you know what being a parent is all about. So, to hear Lyle talk about moving me back to rock was amazing, to say the least, but it also seemed like another scheme to get me prominent once more with failure in sight.

It also got me thinking, too, perhaps on wishful thinking on my part. _Could this be the chance that I've been dreaming of for a couple of years now? Will Ohio bring me back to the fame that I've loved and then lost?_

"Me, a DJ in Cincinnati, Ohio? Give me a break, Lyle." I sighed, pretending to show him the negative turmoil in my mind about being a rock DJ once more. "You've said this before and nothing has come of it. Why should this time be any different?"

"This time, it's real, Kitty." Lyle smile again. "Andy Travers, the program director from WKRP, is here to see you about an opening for a DJ position. Apparently, their two head DJs there can't take long shifts anymore and need somebody in-between their programs, for a different kind of show other than a gospel spell, gongs and fevers. You've been chosen to be their DJ, Kitty. How does that strike you?"

"Well, it smells like a phony little plan Danny has got going," I admitted honestly, watching the old record of _Sentimental Journey_ slowly hit its climax and then die down. "However, if this is actually true this time, then I'll head to Danny's office and check it out. It might be something that I've been looking for since being shipped here to Boston. I don't know, though."

"Something's gotta give sometime, Kitty, and you've been the cat with nine lives. You have been satisfied with each new job you've been perfected for, but each life dies with it. You've been able to get back on your feet again afterward, but it's tougher with each new life."

"For how long, though?" I laughed bitterly, pushing myself to get to Danny's office. "Listen, you take my place here and I'll head off to see Danny and this…Andy Travers guy from Cincinnati. Got it?"

Lyle put his hands up in defeat quickly as I jumped out of my chair too enthusiastically and started my engines. "You've got me, kiddo. Now, go knock off some big shot guys in the office. I'm sure you'll get the job you've always wanted."

"I sure hope so," I only replied back, running out the door as fast as I could.


	2. Andy Travers and His Offer

I didn't even need to bother the receptionist (old Yvonne Hensley) to go in the office and be introduced because Danny and Andy Travers were already in the lobby, waiting for little old me. Danny, a tall Italian man who always wanted to be richer than his family (fooling around with who he pleased), had stood next to a man almost as tall as he was, but younger and a little cuter. This person that Lyle told me about had short (and almost shaggy) dark blonde hair, in fashion clothing and some records under his arm.

"Ah, Kitty, there you are!" Danny yelled, almost too insincerely for my tastes. "This is Andy Travers. I'm sure Lyle has told you about him, hmm?"

I was stunned, to say the least, that Danny didn't have Fiona tailing him (she seemed to when business like this was booming), but was more surprised to see him acting like somebody else with company around. Granted, Danny was as asshole and we all knew it, but for him to perform as if he really were the boss (and not Fiona) was a shocker to me. Lyle had not prepared me for that.

The man named Andy Travers came up to me almost as enthusiastically (except with more gusto and way more heartfelt) and shook my hand vigorously, keeping his records neatly under his other arm. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Evans."

"Kitty," I immediately replied, returning the shake. "You can call me Kitty."

"Kitty," he repeated, trying on his tongue at least once before letting go of my cold hand. "Well, you can call me Andy. Ah, so, let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Yes, of course," Danny said, motioning that we both go to his office. To Yvonne, who was down the hallway filing some things, he called out, "Miss Hensley, can you get us some quick refreshments please?"

Yvonne immediately heard and did Danny's bidding (probably forgetting in a minute, seeing as how she's pretty old and has some sort of dementia). In the meantime, the station manager ushered me and Andy Travers into his office. It made me very nervous (and that was a BIG understatement), but trying to remember that they were going to talk to me about a new job did not make anything better. My stomach kept churning and the butterflies kept fluttering within the sea of acid. I wanted to throw up all over the place, but kept it inside of me.

Andy and I immediately sat down in front of Danny's desk while he sat behind the other end, comfortable enough in that leather chair of his. The two of us then watched him crack his knuckles loudly and smile mischievously, as if he was up to something and we both had to figure out what it was. Danny would drive a hard bargain, for sure, but I wasn't up to what little schemes he had in mind all along. I had my own little plans, surely to break his down, and I was wishing that I didn't have to go to those extremes yet.

"So, Mr. Travers, I see you've shown me some interest in our Kitty," Danny began, sweet as honey. "She's quite the DJ, you know."

"Yes, and we're interested in making her one of ours," Andy replied, all businesslike and all. "You see, Mr. Craig, we've seen that your station's ratings have been dropping for many years now. Keeping Kitty here, just to keep your business afloat, doesn't seem like the best of ideas, especially in an atmosphere where this type of music doesn't seem like her speed. I understand that you also have another DJ here that keeps you open, a Gayle Simon, but seeing Kitty with no potential and a…well, a boring position seems a little unfair, doesn't it?"

_Wow. Blunt and to the point…I think I like this guy!_

Danny folded his hands together, like he was praying to a god that he didn't believe in. "Mr. Travers, I understand Kitty's dilemma here. However, quite honestly, do you think that it'd be _wise_ to be talking of business that shouldn't be known to others with large ears, hmm?"

Andy didn't flinch.

"Not to mention," Danny continued, "I kinda like Kitty."

_You haven't mentioned this before, Danny. A little too greedy over the money and Fiona lately?_

"Doesn't seem like a reason to keep her here, all locked up," Andy pointed out. "We're offering her more than you can in her next contract, set to be signed next week."

I looked at Andy in astonishment. _How did he know that?!_

"Furthermore," Andy added, "I have another offer for you. To share the money? Become soul sister stations? I'm sure that if we divide up in the lucrative success that Kitty has to offer, then I think we can come to an understanding…if you know what I mean."

I immediately saw that Andy was bluffing, just to let Danny give me up. On the other hand, Danny wasn't convinced, but was thinking about Andy's offer. After all, it involved money and money makes Danny's eyes sparkle. Being sister stations, however, made almost no sense whatsoever. Cincinnati and Boston were miles apart from each other. Not to mention, most importantly, I couldn't keep flying back and forth from one station to the other, especially not with my nephew in tow. I'm the only family he has left. I can't abandon him now, even if my career was taking a swing upward.

_I hope?_

"We can't share the woman or cut her in half, you know," Danny pointed out, echoing my thoughts. "However, she _can_ make special appearances for my station, at holidays and such."

Andy thought it over, but appeared to have known it already, protesting, "That's when the stations make the biggest money, though!"

"And it's where she'll stay _if_ you don't agree to it." Danny meant business. "Mr. Travers, despite the trouble that Kitty and Gayle Simon seemed to have caused, I do want to keep this special pet of mine. She brings in revenue, as we've both said, and moving her to Ohio might ruin what chances she has left. I mean, your station isn't making much money, _I've_ heard. You sponsored Scum of the Earth, but that hasn't even brought much prestige to your station. And, quite frankly, having the publicity you have, with that turkey giveaway and all, doesn't entice me to give her up my best DJ, even if we had her splitting her time with us."

If Andy Travers had shown his disdain for the silliness that seemed to have happened at WKRP, he didn't show it. However, he did seem to convey an aura of need instead of want. He _needed_ me, a once class act, to pep up his station's ratings and I'm sure that he liked it, for without that, I wouldn't have this job offer. On the other side of the coin, there was Danny, the greedy Italian who wanted nothing more than the good things in life (and Fiona on the side) and there would be no liking me better.

However, what _I_ needed out of the situation was peace and quiet from the madness I've experienced. I needed some space to showcase a persona that had been locked up in nothing but elevator music for too long now. My little nephew needed a more permanent place to live, Ohio has cheaper pricing than Boston (by a long shot, for sure) and the city will be behind me for good (with any luck). Boston will hold no more reminders for me, the city that welcomed me and my now dead sister over a decade ago and will now say its final goodbyes.

"Hey, do I get to put some input into this?" I finally butted in. "Seeing as how this is _my_ career that we're talking about, I think I should have a say in this."

"But –" Danny began earnestly.

"No!" I yelled. "Look, Danny, I like it here and all, and it's been a great time with you, but I think I would like it better if I moved away to Cincinnati, whether you let me go or not. You don't control me, even if you think so. You also know that Boston holds a lot of memories for me, good and bad, but mostly bad. Let me go, deal or no deal, with Mr. Travers here. My contract's up in a week and I can always refuse to sign another one with you. I mean, what's a week of hell when I can just waltz out of here with that pension I signed up for?"

Danny must have forgotten about that little fine print I tossed in my last contract. It showed on his face.

"You can't do this to me!" he yelled, forgetting that Andy was right next to me.

"Yes, I can," I replied confidently, calmly even. "Remember Don, my little nephew? Yeah, do you recall the day, about six months ago, when his mother, my twin sister, died in a car accident, while I sat next to her? Or, that custody battle that was hoisted upon me by the courts not even two weeks later? The contempt you received when you hired me two years ago, elderly people protesting in your hallways? _That_ day, nobody could get in or out of the station!"

Andy looked on in amazement, having his proof of where Danny's interests laid. There was a new sort of respect for me in his eyes and it surprised me, the person who has received little respect in life. I mean, if anyone knew what my history was (and I'm sure Andy does), then they would have an idea of the tragedy and rage that consumed me and my sister, Zoey. We were twins and I was the more famous of the two, but it was always us that got into trouble as a team. We were inseparable, always linked together by the simple hole in our lives that would never be healed. We were head-to-head in combat when it came our way, the world against us, and there was no turning back.

Well, except, of course, that I'm alone and raising Don. But, hey, that's neither here nor there.

"Well, I see we've already come to an agreement here," Andy finally said, standing up. He then pulled me up with him, shaking my hand once more. "Welcome to WKRP, Kitty. I'm so glad we can have you."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling broadly.

"Wait a minute here!" Danny yelled, standing up with us. "I didn't consent to this. I mean, we didn't figure out the holidays or splitting Kitty's time or –"

"I think it's time that I move on, Danny," I interrupted, letting go of Andy's hand and turning to him to remind him of what I said earlier. "After all, that first pension payment _should_ cover the moving expenses, plus my final paycheck. Won't take me long to find an apartment in the city, after all. And Don can have the same peace of mind that I want right about now."

Andy swiveled his body on one foot and went to leave. "I'll call you," he called back to me in his friendly manner, convinced that I was now his new co-worker (as was I). "We'll talk about the details later. Can I get your number from the receptionist?"

"But –" Danny tried again.

"But, _nothing_," I cut in for the final time, leaning over to kiss Danny on the nose. "There, now, Danny Boy, it'll be ok. Just find another luckless act like I am and you'll do fine. Somebody's gotta watch Fiona and Gayle sometime."

And with that, I walked straight out the door, catching up with Andy. Yvonne needed some help with the paperwork, and not serving refreshments, and that needed to be delivered to Andy soon enough.


End file.
